


Sticks

by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Absurd Coincidences, Accidental Pregnancy, Beta Derek Hale, Fluff, I'm really bad at lip-reading, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Derek Hale, picture prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 06:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11846088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandblade/pseuds/LupusScintilla
Summary: Wherein inkandblade is very, very bad at lip-reading:Stiles opened his hand to try to make the sound louder. Thump, thump, thump. “Derek, please. I know you’re in there.”Based onthis picture.





	Sticks

"Come on, Derek. Let me in!” Stiles thumped the side of his fist against Derek’s door a little harder. The apartment Derek lived in now took up the whole floor, so Stiles at least didn’t have to worry too much about annoying any neighbors.

He was worried about Derek, though. His other-half hadn’t answered any texts for the last three days. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t randomly appeared at Stiles’ school to bring him lunch for no apparent reason. He hadn’t dropped into the Sheriff’s station to look at old cases like he usually did every couple of days. Lydia hadn’t seen him. Scott didn’t really care. Melissa agreed that Stiles should be worried.

And he was.

He opened his hand to try to make the sound louder. Thump, thump, thump. “Derek, please. I know you’re in there.”

A text buzzed on Stiles’ phone and he took it as a sign to stop for a while. He twisted and leaned against the door as he pulled the machine out of his pocket. He slid down and landed on his ass as he swiped open the screen.

_No, you don’t._

“Yes, I do, Sourwolf.” Derek always seemed to forget, possibly on purpose, that Stiles had added a magical trace to the ink in his tattoo.

Stiles leaned forward as Derek’s footsteps got closer. The door behind him opened. He pushed himself up and around, then shoved his phone back in his pocket. Derek looked as if he hadn’t slept for days. His beard was a day or so longer than where he usually kept it nowadays. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked as if he’d not been in sunlight for weeks. 

He was still the best thing Stiles had ever seen, always was. 

“Can I come in?” There had to be a very, very good reason for Derek falling back into his old, hiding-from-everyone ways. Stiles would wait for an explanation if he had to. “I’ll go if you need me to, I just.” He’d learned to control his heartbeat in most situations, but he never could around Derek. “I needed to see you with my own two eyes.” 

“I.” Derek swallowed and clenched his fists by his sides. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” He stepped aside and Stiles followed him inside, pulling the door shut quietly behind them.

Derek walked past the kitchen and past the lounge and into the bedroom where Stiles had half the closet and drawer space. He leaned knees against the side of the bed and Stiles did the same on the end.

“Can I help?”

“You don’t have to.” Derek hadn’t lifted his eyes from the bedspread. 

Stiles looked around as much as he could without moving his head. The place was spotless, as always; the bed was made, photos were straight on the tops of the dressers, there were fresh towels hung in the ensuite bathroom, the trash basket was full of… Sticks?

“We can have a discussion about wanting to versus needing to later.” Stiles turned and Derek didn’t react. He’d brought Stiles in here so he’d see exactly what he was looking at. “I don’t know what to ask, Derek. I have no idea why there are, what, five or six bits of wood thrown in the bathroom trash.”

Derek’s cheeks pinked and his shoulders slumped. “You don’t know what they are?”

“I get the feeling this would be an easier conversation if I did? I’m sorry.” He really wanted to touch Derek, but he wasn’t sure he could yet.

Derek pressed his chin to his chest. “I shouldn’t expect.” He sighed. “I always forget that even you can’t learn everything from books.” He looked up at Stiles finally.

Stiles reached out and rubbed a hand up Derek’s arm, and Derek didn’t move closer, but he didn’t pull away. 

“Tell me what kind of wood it is, and I’ll go learn. I’m sure I can find the right book, or…” He tried for sassy, Derek liked him sassy, “I’ll even call Peter if—”

“No!” Derek pulled away and took a step towards the bathroom. “No Peter. No family. No other wolves. Not now. Not until…” He gritted his teeth. “They’re tests okay?”

“Medical tests?” Stiles didn’t even try to control his heart. “Are you—”

“I’m not sick, Stiles. I’m,” he pressed his lips together and tugged down on the sleeves of his sweater. 

Stiles took a few steps closer to the trash can. The sticks were half coated with something purple that faded to a bright white at the ends. He turned to look back up at Derek, hoping that his expression was enough of a question. He really did have no idea what to ask.

Derek reached out, but didn’t touch. “I’m not sick. I’m. Just. Just pregnant.” 

Stiles couldn’t help it, he followed Derek’s gesture, looked down his arm and into the trash again. “Puh.” He blinked at the sticks. They were, now that he looked a little closer, from a rowan tree. All snapped, not cut. Broken at each end. The purple of the coating on them was probably one of the eighty-four other strains of wolfsbane no one talked about. He blinked again, and finally turned back to Derek. “H—” He shook his head and cut himself off. He wasn’t going to ask how. He knew how. He hadn’t had any idea that  _that_ could lead to  _this_ , of course, but he knew how. That was a really freaking stupid question, and Derek didn’t need freaking-stupid-question-Stiles. He needed take-it-in-his-stride-Stiles. Derek was pregnant with what Stiles was going to assume was a werewolves-and-magic-are-freaking-amazing baby. It was theirs, ‘cause even if Stiles didn’t know one-hundred-percent that Derek would never cheat on him, there was no way he’d be telling Stiles if it wasn’t his kid, too. Derek had gone even paler, which was not a good thing. “Can I hug you?”

It was Derek’s turn to blink. He nodded and Stiles stepped closer. He opened his arms and Derek slumped into Stiles’ embrace. He pressed his face into Stiles’ neck and even more tension ran out of him. His words were muffled, but Stiles could understand. “I didn’t know. I remember hearing stories as a kid, but I thought they were  _just_ stories. I’m sorry.”

Stiles slid his arms a little further around Derek and pulled him tight. “I don’t think there’s any sorries necessary here. I’m pretty sure that this is as much my doing as yours, Sourwolf.”

Derek huff-laughed and pulled his head up so they were eye to eye. “I couldn’t borrow the scroll, but Satomi let me read it and copy out the passage. She made me the test-sticks, too.” He rubbed his lips together. “It’s usually told as just a story because the parameters of the possibility are so… The only kind of male werewolf this can happen to is a born, full-shift one who was once an Alpha but gave it away willingly.”

Stiles brushed their cheeks together then pulled back to look at his other-half again. “And, let me guess, it can only happen with, what, a magic-user, not another magical-being?”

Derek tilted his head to the side so he could rest his cheek on Stiles’ shoulder. “And the magic user can’t carry. Only the wolf.”

Stiles couldn’t help the giggle that crept out of his throat. “So I have the kind of magical-sperm that only a selfless, once-Alpha, power bottom, full-shift werewolf can truly appreciate?” 

Derek smiled. It was soft and small and perfect. “It’s shorter than a regular pregnancy, so you have less time to decide, but. You don’t have to—”

Stiles cut him off with a press of the lips. It wasn’t enough to be a kiss, but he didn’t want to delay in saying, “I love you, Derek Hale. I may only be twenty-one but I’m more than okay with the idea that we’re going to… Holy shit.” His heart rate had really gone through the roof, now. “We’re gonna be daddies. I mean. I want this. I don’t know how we do it, but I want it.” He lifted a hand to run along Derek’s jaw and into his hair, pushing it back and laying his scent into Derek’s. Stiles was used to it now, and he liked knowing that there was something else he could do, something more than words and kisses, to show Derek that he meant what he’d said. “I don’t think this kind of magic can happen by mistake.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this picture](https://inkandblade.tumblr.com/post/164362053601/im-so-so-sorry-for-this-but-i-am-really).
> 
> I'm truly sorry for this. I'm trying to get myself writing again! ([Anthracite](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11596473) has melted my brain.)


End file.
